Bloody Prince
by Gavenga323
Summary: Life without a father is hard, so what happens when you find out that your father is actually a demon sealed away before you were born? And, what do you do, when he comes to your school? M for violence and language.
1. Return

**Hi everybody, just so you know, this is my first fic, so don't expect it to be like the Torah or anything. I've decided to make his mother's maiden name Aono, for specific purposes.**

**I will probably update on a weekly schedule, with a break at the end of June. (weddings, got to love them)**

**Please R&R!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rosario + Vampire**

* * *

**.**

**Return**

* * *

"_Capuchuuu!"_

"Gaaahhhh!"

The steady silence of the woods was broken by these two sounds, probably the weirdest sounds you could ever hear two human beings say.

Well, scratch that. There was only one human in the foreboding trees. Heck, he was the only one in the whole surrounding area.

Enter Tsukune Aono, average guy, average grades, average looks, you get the point. As of now, he is currently said human being, painfully yelling in response to the creature clamping down on his neck.

Enter, Moka Akashiya, the school's number one beauty. In short, she's beautiful, smart, kind, brave, (on some fronts, not all) oh, and let's not forget the fact that when you remove the rosary from her neck, she goes from cute, innocent, pink-haired, emerald-eyed angel, to a Silver-haired, ruby-eyed vampire goddess who could easily snap every bone in a pro wrestler's body. As of right now though, her cute outer self had her fangs clamped on the poor human's neck, greedily sucking away his blood.

After a few increasingly wearisome moments for Tsukune, the young vampire withdrew from his neck, licking the two holes shut. Due to ancient stereotypes, one would assume, why not just suck him dry? Why not turn him into your mindless ghoul or something?

2 reasons. 1) It doesn't work that way, and 2) said vampire, kind of, had a, sort of, deep-ish crush on him, so it would be rather stupid to drain the one you love alive. How does one get into this situation? Unfortunately, it is a little complicated. To start off, when Tsukune was rather young, he was told by his mother, that his father was a foreign businessman by the name of Ben Hanley who died in an accident one week after Tsukune was born, and two weeks before he would marry his mother, Kasumi Aono. Though life was hard, the two Aonos prevailed. Unfortunately, with the lack of a father, Tsukune didn't have a fatherly figure to help him with school. At the start of high school, there was only one school willing to take him in. This school just so happened to be the training grounds at which monsters are trained to cope with humans. Currently, he was the only human there.

And what kept him at that school? What kept him from packing his bags, making for the bus, and getting the **hell** out of there?

The answer to that question had just finished using his blood to quench her growing thirst.

"Seriously, Moka-san," he groaned out to the now blushing vampire," for the past year that I've known you, you still have yet to say why you prefer my blood over anything else."(1)

"But Tsukune," she said dreamily," Your blood is so sweet, so balanced…" A dreamy veil passed over her face, glazing her eyes as she happily commented on his blood in thorough detail, much to the discomfort of the human.

"Tsukune!" The young man turned around to find a pair of large and rather bouncy breasts that would make any woman jealous, right before they slammed into his face, knocking him on his back.

Enter Kurumu Kuronu, a short, curvy, rather dim-witted succubus, an elfish creature of lust and dreams . As she lay there on top of him, expressing her love to what she believed to be her 'Destined One,' Tsukune wisely chose that moment to start coming up with an evasive action plan for this sort of greeting.

_Oh well, it's not as if this situation could get worse could it? _He mused to himself as Moka tried to pull her off. Just then a kunai made of ice stabbed into Kurumu's forehead, and while not fatal, in still did the job of hurting her head like hell**.**

Tsukune turned his head to see a blushing Yuki onna emerge from the bushes and start walking towards him.

_Kami bless your soul right now Mizore!_ Tsukune thought with thanks evident all over his face to his blushing stalker.

Yes, a legitimate, true, honest to God, pro stalker. When he first met her, she held the opinion that he was as lonely and miserable as he was. While he did prove her wrong outright, it did not stop the young snow maiden from following him around.

**EVERYWHERE**. In the cafeteria, in the hallways, and once or twice, Tsukune could have SWORN seeing her in one of the bathroom air vents.

Even though he didn't return the feelings in the same way, Tsukune still valued her as a good friend.

That didn't stop her feelings though.

"Tsukune," she spoke, drawing close to his side, her lollipop poking the insides of his ear, "leave these people, let's plan our marriage."

Tsukune deadpanned.

* * *

Far away from the young Aono and his harem, across the sea, there was a place, with snow. Snow lightly cascading down onto a forest. This forest just so happened to be a favorite ritual spot for religious leaders in the nearby village due to its spiritual eeriness, and also a famous tourist attraction known for the shedding of much blood to appease false idols and long forgotten polytheistic beliefs.

What the oblivious mortals **didn't** know is that right in the middle of the vast army of trees, there sat a clearing. In this clearing there sat two stones, one on top of the other, with the top stone holding what appeared to be a rosary standing upright. Unlike the silver one that kept the Inner Moka sealed, this one was a pure black, not even showing the reflection of the moon, as if not even light escaped its grasp. Usually, the night carried a pristine silence, so silent you could hear the snowflakes actually crunch from touching the ground.

But not this night.

This night, there was a breeze, and one could faintly pick out on that breeze; a whisper.

Soft and low, it chanted. In a language not heard for many an age. Its soft voice edged the breeze on, swirling the snow, and it was then that one would be able to make out its purpose.

Around the stones, lay a circle of ground perfectly dry, not one snow flake entering its radius, but slowly, the circumference decreased. Edging minutely toward the stone, the snow continued to fall. The chanting picked up, causing the wind to swirl the snow into an even greater frenzied dance, pushing the radius of the circle further in.

8 inches left, and there shown a distinct excitement in that ghost of a whisper, a person could have been able to **hear** the smile on the non-existing face of that voice.

As the circle finally collapsed, one lone snow flake fluttered down. With a most delegate grace, the snowflake landed on the tip of the rosary's outstretched arms.

Slowly the black cross tipped over, its perfect balance compromised by that one little snowflake. Falling down off the stone, it speared the ground with a shallow crunch.

All motion stopped, save for the relentless fall of snow. As the echo of the small noise faded away, the silky, low voice let out a sigh, as if over one thousand years of stress and weariness had been lifted from its shoulders.

Then the stone erupted.

* * *

Back in the cafeteria, Tsukune lost all focus in the conversation as a very cold, empty feeling settled in his stomach. At this feeling, his face contorted into a grimace.

_Something…_

"Tsukune?"

* * *

Like Tsukune, Moka herself had withdrawn from the conversation at hand, seeing as the talk was of body sizes, which, in itself, is **really** uncomfortable. She then took notice of Tsukune's glazed expression. This elicited an airy giggle from the pink haired vampire.

_Tsukune looks so cute when he's in thought…_ she mused to herself. Right then, the eye on her rosary snapped open.

**Why are you so obsessed with that human? **Her inner side chided.

_As if __you__ are one to talk…_ she retorted, earning a mental huff from her split personality.

**I have every right to; I will ****never**** have feelings for him.**

_You do realize that we share the same mind right? _She asked with her gaze still locked onto the man in front of her.

**So? **Came the prompt response.

_Some days you can be really stubborn._ Her outer self mentally stated causing her inner side to retreat back into her seal with some clouded mumbling. Once again focusing her gaze, she was quite surprised to see a grim face on Tsukune, a very rare sight.

"Tsukune?" she asked aloud, her question causing the young man to jump and blush at being pulled from his mindscape.

"Y-yes Moka-san?" he questioned, seeing the look of worry etched on her features.

"Are you okay?" she interrogated, waiting for the right answer.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, don't worry." He laughed, earning a pout from the pink haired beauty, lightening his mood, if only a little.

As they walked on to class, Moka looked down and gripped her seal in worry.

_What's wrong with him? _She mused quietly, walking toward her seat for the next class.

Meanwhile, her other self was currently in the same position, looking down at her feet as she recalled the look of unease plastered on his face.

**Tsukune…** She murmured.

* * *

Tenmai Mikogami looked up from his desk as a wave of cold washed over the room, causing a rare frown to pass over his face.

"What could that be?"He mused aloud. He then noticed that one of his desk drawers quivered, boosting his curiosity and frustration. Opening said drawer, he looked down to see a red box with silver trim, larger than his fist, rattling with increasing ferocity. Prying open the top, he stared at a pure black rosary.

After scooping it up and watching it quiver in his hand, the Chairman immediately sank into thought.

_Why on earth would it be acting like this now of all… _his eyes widened considerably as the rosary **dissolved** in his hand, turning into a pile of black powder on his desk.

Staring down at the diminutive pile, the usually grinning Chairman compiled a mix of emotions and thoughts into two words.

_Oh Shit._

* * *

Back in the human world, Kasumi Aono looked up from her seat by the table at the familiar feeling that bubbled through her mindscape, allowing a smile to grace her lips.

_Returned at last_, she simply thought as she took another sip from her mug of tea.

In the forest, a figure rose in place of the stones.

* * *

Black feathery wings stretched out to reveal a male figure, with ebony skin, topped off by a mat of dark purple hair, covered head to toe in splashes of blood. After swaying in the snow for all of thirty seconds, the entity snapped its eyelids open, revealing gold irises that clashed with blood red pupils.

The demon studied its surroundings in a state of curiosity; it was easy to tell that it was confused.

The being suddenly blinked in shock as an image appeared in his mind. A woman with semi-short hazel hair, with green eyes that were constantly squinting, smiling as he held her to his chest.

_Kasumi,_ the thought entered his mind, at which he looked down to the ground with a smile, only to notice something in the snow.

Stooping down, he picked up a pure black rosary, to which another image entered his mind.

A man, wearing white priest robes, with a hood shadowing his face, looking down on him with two eyes that twinkled like stars. He saw that exact man, stooping over him to set that same rosary on his forehead, locking him in another dimension, in which, for every year here, 100 took place there.

He was gone for **16 years**.

_Almost 2000 years in that world,_ he thought bitterly, his eyes turning to stone as the hand holding on to that black cross started shaking. _2000 years of endless hell, just to settle one's fears._

A low growl started up in his chest, his body shaking in an insurmountable fury.

Suddenly, every living thing within 50 feet of him died. Trees crumbled and fell as their insides rotted away. Mice that were currently underground to shield from the snow collapsed and melted away to skeletons. Falling to his knees, he brought up his clawed fingers to hold his head, his body locked into a constant spasm, tears running down his cheeks while his youki could only rise.

_**Damn you Mikogami, damn you…**_ he sat there crying in a huddle, like a child, lost in the world.

Bringing his face up, he stared as the cold, heartless moon peaked through the clouds.

It almost seemed to mock him.

He could no longer control himself as he lifted his arms to the heavens and uttered his first words since his return.

"**DAMN YOU TO ****HEEELLLLLLLLLLLL!****"** he screamed at the top of his lungs as his built up youki released itself in a blast of flames that quickly engulfed the surrounding forest, and the village.

Still on his knees, the figure continued to wail in agony as all around him perished in flames.

* * *

**Well, there you have it, first chapter.**

**I know that in the manga, Moka is always stating how sweet and balanced his blood is, but in my opinion, she probably murmurs this to herself than out loud to him**

**Like I stated before, please R&R, I'm open to suggestions and criticism. (no flames please)**

**Honestly, I hope you realize who the figure is, feel free to write your suspicions in your review**

**Until next time!**

**Gavenga323 signing off.**


	2. Unnofficial Bonding

**Hey there everybody!**

**As you can see, the story is continuing on, so please enjoy, and don't forget to R&R!**

**I'm so sorry for not using lines to cut the scene swaps, which must have been really confusing**

**I may start using polls for later chapters.**

**Enjoy**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rosario Vampire.**

_**WARNING:**_** character death later on in story, sorry for not mentioning this sooner.**

**Unofficial Bonding**

* * *

The figure still sat there, huddled amongst the ashes, loud sobs racking his body as his mind could only focus on every negative aspect this situation brought.

_I could never say goodbye,_ he mused with a bitter chuckle, as he continued to stare at his feet, _I lost my chance for a wedding, hell, I even missed out on the life of my own son and – wait…_ He lifted his head in an epiphany, _I have a son!_

Several emotions played out on his face. Shock, shock that he could ever bring life, of all things, into this world. Joy, joy that he actually had something to be proud of. Sadness, sadness that he was never there for him, to go hiking and camping with him, several things that a father **should **do, but he never did.

_Hang on,_ he blinked, another epiphany striking him even quicker than the last, _if he's my son, he's of my blood._ He suddenly closed his eyes in concentration.

Why?

Unlike most mystical creatures, his kind, a species of greater demons with a name long forgotten, had the capability of mental telepathy with family members. Of course that ability was achieved long ago through extremely violent means, but hey, that's another story.

His mind panning the globe, it didn't take him long to find his sons energy signal. He wasn't surprised really; it wasn't just due to the fact that the boy was his son, but more for the fact that, besides him, he was the last of his kind.

Right before that damn Mikogami locked him in a separate universe, traveling humans and youkai alike bore news of his family and friends, the world over, being hunted and banished by a religious group led by that damn, **loathsome, ****INSOLENT ****BASTARD ****CALLED ****THE ****POPE****!**

His eyes cracked open, black tears rolling down his cheeks as the signal suddenly disappeared.

He mentally kicked himself in the head, biting back a few curses all the while,_ I always forget emotions ruin the telepathy._

He again closed his eyes with a soft breath of excitement as he entered the mindscape of the one who was his son, and was rather surprised to see the image of a silver haired vampire giving him a look that would scare a battle hardened Roman general.

* * *

"Aphrodisiac?" Tsukune questioned.

Earlier that day, one of Tsukune's harem, a perverted twelve year old witch by the name of Yukari, used a new and quite unnerving invention to charm Outer Moka, strengthening her desires for Tsukune practically ten-fold. It was only the intervention of Inner Moka, that stopped the two from becoming **really **intimate, and currently, she was less than pleased.

"Yes." She responded in her authoritative manner.

"Then today, Moka-san's pushy actions-"

"Were entirely the aphrodisiac's fault." She simply stated. "However, my supreme pride as a vampire, will never allow a lowly human like you to get near me."

"Ohh…" He replied, looking down at his feet, tugging at his collar sheepishly. _Well, she's probably right about th-_

_**You seriously going to give up that easily boy?**_ He heard a voice speak up in his mind, causing the most common, natural response.

_What the hell? _He jumped, looking around as if to see the owner of the rogue thought.

_**Listen kid, if you really are into that sort of thing, its best you take it from a skilled supervisor.**_

_Oh boy,_ Tsukune thought, _now I've seen it all, a kid trying to give himself advice for dating a vampire._

_**Oh, just be quiet,**_ the voice chided, earning a blink of confusion from the young male, _**now listen, because I'm only going to help you once. First lesson in the art of love, you have to know your prey. **__**She**__**, is a **__**vampire**__**, get it? Human techniques won't work on her, now, here's what you need to do-**_

_Wait,_ he cut the voice off,_ first off, how do I, of all people, know what I'm doing? Second, not that I don't trust myself with knowledge on how to please a vampire, which, I sure as __**hell**__ don't, but I would like live long enough to see my 18__th__ birthday*._

_**So would I, but if you want to have a chance at her, you're going to have to step up your game and expand your boundaries to be more than 'just friends'. **_The voice spoke coolly, earning a blush from the young Aono. _**Now, get up on your feet, dust off your pants, you're not homeless. First things first, walk up to her side-**_

* * *

Inner Moka paused in her rant to stare off into the trees, away from Tsukune of course, lest he see the traces of pink still adorning her cheeks. That, was way too close. Don't get her wrong, she really wanted that to happen, but not while she was locked away in her body with an outer personality drugged to high hell. Not to mention the fact that Tsukune was **human**.

_But then again, Tsukune is so cute, and he has such a nice body… wait, where the hell did that come from? _She snapped out of her thoughts and dreams to continue her lecture to the young man.

"To touch the other Moka, would be the same as touching m-" She paused as she felt a set of hands, Tsukune's hands, rest on her shoulders, quickly followed by the placing of his forehead on her back.

_Does he really have a death wish? _She really didn't understand that boy sometimes, really.

"I-I'm sorry Moka-san," he spoke in a low, quiet voice, "can you forgive me?" he finished with a voice sounding on the verge of tears, at which Moka sighed through her nostrils. If it was her outer self, she would have given in the moment she heard that sweet, sad, cute, intoxicating…

She blinked at her sudden thoughts, _damn, what is with me today? _After criticizing herself for childish musings, she gave off an audible sigh, directed to the man behind her.

"I forgive you," she managed off, barely keeping her calm demeanor, and was met with a breath of relief from Tsukune. At that moment, she decided to take his hands off her shoulders, and turned to face him.

"But remember Tsukune, know your-" her famous quote soon turned into a gasp as her form was enveloped by an overjoyed Tsukune, bringing back the blush she fought so hard to get rid of.

"Place?" she whispered out to the boy. _What the heck, _she mused at the tingling feelings all along her side, _why am I feeling like this now of all… Oh…_

As it would turn out, the nerves between a vampire's ribs are **extremely** sensitive, and as fate would have it, each of his fingers were placed, coincidently, between each of her ribs.

Soon, the tingling shocks turned into jolts of pleasure, and it was only an extreme show of willpower that kept her from whimpering like a dog in heat.

"Thank you Moka-san!" Tsukune exclaimed, bringing his hand up to pat her shoulder as a small gesture between friends, except for the fact that his index finger was rubbing ever so small circles between her shoulder blade and spine.

That just so happened to be another sensitive spot for vampires.

Thus causing the blissful feeling to move up her back, giving her an embarrassing feeling of excitement.

_I'm… beginning to wonder… if this is on purpose or… not. _Right now, she was surprised she could even **think**. It would appear her mind has started to haze over in pure bliss from Tsukune's… questionable… touches.

Soon, Moka started swaying back and forth, on the verge of collapsing from the relentless jolts of pleasure racing up and down her back, causing a concerned glance to be directed her way.

"You don't look to good Moka-san," He grinned, moving his hand from her shoulder blade back down to her side to stabilize her. It should be noted, however, that he placed each finger between her ribs.

Again.

And if that wasn't enough, he started to move them back and forth.

By then, Inner Moka's eyes had practically glazed over from the feelings overloading her senses. Lifting her ruby eyes to gaze into his green ones, she was somehow surprised to see that they were overflowing with mischief.

The bastard was toying with her.

She made a half hearted attempt to growl, which, much to her embarrassment, morphed into a contented purr, earning the raising of Tsukune's eyebrows.

While her body was slowly climaxing into a nirvana from the caresses of Tsukune, her mind was a boiling sea of confusion, where her reason made an attempt to dominate her instinct, which was begging her to let him take her, body and soul. After what felt like hours of heated discussion, reason finally won over instinct and drew up the simplest defense plan of the age.

_If she somehow escapes this, Tsukune is a dead man._

* * *

_**Now, I never really understood this, but for some odd reason, vampire's are extremely, **__**extremely**__** sensitive where the femur meets the pelvis, now this is going to be akward, but if you take your middle finger, and rub up and down there,**_ after a second of contemplation, Tsukune complied, and was rewarded with an adorable mixture of a squeak and moan from the usually cool and collective blood sucker. He suddenly paused in his handwork as a thought struck him, fast and hard.

_I am probably going to die for that one._

_**You idiot! You should not have paused!**_

_Why? _Tsukune looked down and was quite startled to see that his pause had allowed the vampire to regain control over her body. Her eyes, which had been glazed over for the entire process, now burned holes into his soul with what could only surmount to as a fiery, hateful wrath.

It would appear that such physical contact tended to be quite the attack on a vampire's pride.

_Oh shit._

* * *

The figure planted the bridge of his nose between his knuckle and thumb, giving an exaggerated sigh as it withdrew from his son's mind. People should probably sign a safety waver before attempting to please a vampire. Not that it was pleasing, it was more like using knowledge of the nervous system to stimulate the senses. Take the sides for example, in the entire history of the world, no one, **no one,** has ever tried hitting a vampire in their side, making their sides extremely sensitive to the slightest touch.

A sudden thought caused him to move his hand to his chin and close his eyes in contemplation.

_What is that vampire to my son?_

He quickly shrugged that off though, he'll figure out relationships later.

Now.

Where was he?

He placed his clawed hands on his hips and opened his eyes, only to blanch as he finally focused on the carnage that lay all around him.

_Whoops._ It would appear that he let his temper get the best of him, slightly.

_Oh well. As long as no one got hurt._

Flapping his wings, he quickly rose up to get a 360 view of the destroyed landscape. _Not many clues on location here._ Further he rose, breaking through the mixture of cloud and ash that hid the stars.

His gaze shifting upwards, he floated there for a good long while, studying the silent orbs in the black expanse. _Well since it's snowing and also stupidly cold, it obviously must be winter. Stars in winter, hmm… let's see, am I in… Europe? Maybe? America? Nope. Japan? No. Hmm… Oh, of course! So I'm in- wait… _

He brought a clawed digit up to scratch his chin. _Why am I in western Russia?_

After mere seconds of confusion, he merely shrugged off the revelation.

_Now then, _he turned off to the east,_ Japan, here I come. _He chose that moment, however, to pause after only flying 3 feet.

Ever so slowly, his gaze shifted downwards to gaze at his own body, where he discovered two mainstream problems.

One.

He was naked.

Also.

If he were to walk around in a t-shirt, or go to the ocean, half the people present would faint at the state of his body. His skin was practically a layer of scars adorning his chest, arms, and legs. A vast array of scars, crude stitches and such that spoke of an extremely violent, and not a little gory of a past.

To make it quaint, by social standards, he was definitely not acceptable. He was going to need some bandages.

Shifting his gaze upwards, his golden eyes panned the horizon with an extremely acute sense of sight, until they finally came to rest on the charred remains of the nearby village. Many of the buildings still held upright, but it was plain to see that all residents had died in the inferno.

_Son of a BITCH!_

A pang of guilt passed through him at seeing the wanton destruction that was wrought on the unfortunate settlement, but that he quickly fought down with a shake of his head and sped towards the village. He was a demon after all, a cursed one, a blood bather; thousands of years ago, his kind had slaughtered entire **cities** to rid themselves of boredom.

He didn't really care all that much about that little detail though, no, what he really cared about was what happened three thousand years ago. Back then, the oldest and wisest of all demons made a truly astounding decision that ordered all demons to live peacefully amongst humans and monsters alike, until they were nothing more than a memory, an old campfire story used to scare children.

_And what happens? _He thought to himself, alighting down in the town square._ Vampires become the top dogs of the monster world. __**Vampires**__! I could understand dragons, but vampires? No, nothing but a bunch of prideful monkeys, the lot of them. Now, clothes and bandages._

After several hours of scavenging, he emerged from one of less damaged homes, with a layer of bandages encompassing his entire body, save the head, and a set of black pants and shirt, both of which were speckled with ash.

Stepping out though, he was startled to see that the sky was a medium shade of pink. Dawn was approaching, and unless some weird evolution happened in the past 17 years, that meant that the humans in nearby villages will start to travel about, and he really didn't want to be caught guilty for the hundreds of acres he destroyed not to mention he was guilty of **murder**.

_Well, if I do get spotted, it won't hurt to get my hands a little bloody, will it? _The silence of the dawn was broken by a rather loud crack, the source being him punching his own face with enough force to actually **break** his neck. Before his body could collapse however, his bones realigned themselves and his spinal cord healed, restoring life into his barely dead corpse.

_No, _he continued,_ I'd be damned, __**damned**__, if I ever harmed another innocent soul, I promised Kasumi that much._

This thought, however, caused his form to pause as he, once again, took in the wasteland around him, charred, dead proof of how hypocritical his last statement was.

_Fine then,_ he sighed, looking up to stare at the pockets in the clouds that held the ever fading forms of the stars, _at least just give me strength to control myself. _

A low thrum soon caught his attention as he looked over in shock to see several airborne military transports heading in the general direction of the village.

_Son of a bitch! _The words flashed across his mind as he took off in the other general direction, _how the hell did they find out so quickly? Satellite?_

After running for a good thirty seconds, he reached the outskirts of the town before he suddenly stopped in his sprint.

_Why am I running? _He questioned himself as he looked back to the humans disembarking into the ghost town and surrounding burn area. _I can't let a human army stop me. I have things to do, people to see! Stop one! Kasumi. Stop two! Mikogami… _His faced suddenly seemed to morph into that of a wolf, a devilish grin practically splitting his face apart. Stop two will be so much fun.

He blasted off into the sky, ignoring the startled cries from the human military as he soared into the sun, until he rested, just above the cloud layer, the grin of the devil set in stone on his features.

_No, it won't be fun, it'll be a blast!_

Savage joy and excitement built itself up in his chest until he let it all loose with a string of words, words in a language not heard for a millennium.

"**BRUL ****GAFGHA ****JIN ****OOMAR ****RUULIK, ****MIKOGAMI ****TENMEI****! ****SHNIIL ****BIR ****JIN ****NU ****RAVAAN****!**"**

* * *

In the city, there sat many buildings, used for companies and industries of the trade called business. Some were good and honest, others dark, shady, but also rich as hell. So one wouldn't be surprised to learn that the most criminal friendly place there, just so happened to be the richest corporation in the district.

This corporation, or Gundistry Inc. as its name so proudly suggested, made an average of 804 billion yen each year off of the weapons business, and each year, over a third of that profit has been invested in the underworld. Bombings, assassinations, and major arson don't even make a tenth of the… "activities…" that they participate in.

Now one might ask, why would they help crime so much? What reason do they have to do business with such a disgraceful lot?

Well, when you sell weapons, you're going to have to get shady every once in a while. Also, they don't have a care in the world for human rights, or morals.

Because they weren't human themselves.

Gundistry Inc. was one of the richest, all-youkai-staff companies in Japan, and the world's second largest industry to be run by only one species, orcs.

This would astonish most people as the stereotypical orc would be big, hulking individual waving around a club or axe.

This was not the case here. Outside, one would find two guards standing silent and sure, with faces that would do a Buckingham palace guard proud. Inside, there was a receptionist standing behind the counter with a warm smile and a nice coat, with every level upwards holding the same aura of work and peace.

Underground was a different story.

Every orc clan settlement had a section used exclusively for holding prisoners, and Gundistry Inc. had theirs conveniently located in the basement. Down there, all walls had been removed, giving a person full view of the area. A good third of the level held a cluster of cages spread out evenly into rows and columns. Inside each one was a prisoner. Most held a person in rags moaning out as if hoping their cries of anguish would earn a sip of life giving water. Others held naked men, covered in slashes and bruises from torture, often lying in fetal positions, babbling and whispering words of insanity. Some held bloody corpses of dead POWs from village raiding parties. There was even one or two that held a skeleton of some unfortunate soul, forgotten by his captors and left to rot.

There was not one soul in that section, who was in full condition. Except today.

Today, two figures stood in the middle of the small iron forest, holding a conversation on a job, a job that could very well **double** Gundistry Inc's profit for the next three months, one of them, however, was currently uncomfortable with a problem that had been nagging them since arrival.

"I thought you said we would hold this conversation in private, why then, are we surrounded by these… creatures?" It questioned with a smooth silky voice, waving its hand to motion all the cages' inhabitants that surrounded them.

"Because," the other figure spoke in a deep growling voice, "my office is down here, and listening to the screams of the dying, it… soothes me." It finished in a sadistic and twisted voice.

"Chief Goldfang," the first spoke again, "I had hoped there would be no witnesses."

"Don't worry," Goldfang assured, grinning to reveal that his fangs had indeed been surgically replaced with gold, "I have yet to see a prisoner survive more than a month down here."

The first figure gave a satisfied nod at this gruesome statement.

"Now then," Goldfang continued with a clap, the echo resonation throughout the room, "Back to business, could you repeat your offer?"

"As I stated before, we, at Fairy Tale, are willing to pay you a sum of two hundred **billion** yen to exterminate a certain individual, this said individual's death will greatly benefit us for our… future plans." The figure spoke, pulling a picture from its pocket to toss to the orc chief.

"Really?" Goldfang replied, giving off a whistle at the sheer amount of potential profit available. Staring at the picture in his hand, he quickly came to the conclusion that this would be an easy job. Unfortunately, when one deals with these kinds of people before, which he has, one realizes nothing comes easy.

"So what's the catch," he gave the figure a wary eye, "is the target some S class monster, like a… vampire?"

"No, I assure you, the target is completely 100% human, period."

"If that's the case," the orc looked back down at the picture, "why does Fairy Tale want **us** to deal with them, surely you could with your resources and fighting strength."

"Alas," the figure replied with an air of boredom, "we are currently busy with other matters. We chose you due to your heritage and… past 'experiences'."

"Fair enough," the chief stated, right before a thought entered his mind, "exactly where is the target now?"

"Our sources have confirmed their destination and location, both of which you will find in this." The figure spoke coolly, pulling out an envelope to toss to the orc chief.

After staring at the contents for a few moments, he nodded in confirmation before placing the envelope in his pocket.

"Alright then, you can consider the target dead by sun down tomorrow. Now," he flicked the picture high into the air before taking a more gentlemanly stance, "since you're here, you're probably wanting to know this company's history."

"I'd be delighted to know." The figure said with a warm friendly smile, much different to the expressionless mask they had earlier.

With relaxed and easy going stances, the two figures left the basement.

* * *

Behind them, a pair of gunmetal grey eyes unlocked their gaze from the floor to stare at the retreating figures' backs. This man was an exorcist, one of 200 men hand selected by the pope to banish demons off the face of the earth, who, due to a series of unfortunate events, got captured by the orcs. Unbeknownst to the two 'businessmen', he had actually been listening to the conversation from the start with a dreaded interest.

He had enough knowledge of Fairy Tale to know that, anything that benefited them, was definitely not good, and by the sound of it, this "target's," death will benefit them greatly. The one question he had however…

Who was the target?

It was then that he noticed the picture that the one from Fairy Tale held, slowly fluttering down towards the bloodstained floor.

Using what could only surmount to as three quarters of his remaining strength, he snatched the picture away before it was almost stained to have a look at it.

After staring at the picture for a few seconds, his features morphed into that of confusion.

_Do I know that person? _He only had to stare at it for three more seconds before his confused glance morphed into one of realization, and not a little fear.

He knew that person, he knew that person all too well, and he knew that person enough to realize this.

_If those orcs succeed, there will be death, more death than the bubonic plague in a month, which is still a __**shit ton**__ of death._

He needed to prepare, and he needed to do it now.

He flicked the picture out through the bars as he turned to look and fidget at his waist. Luckily, the orcs had only taken the things they deemed: "fatal to our existence." So that still left him with quite enough gear to work with, but he still needed to work fast, and efficient.

_If I don't prepare for the after effects… _this thought caused him to inwardly shudder.

He could already see the grim reaper, sitting in the corner sharpening his scythe in between bouts of laughter.

Death was coming, and fast.

Outside the cage, the picture landed face up in the gore, where it remained for all of five seconds before being stained a deep red, blurring the image, but one could still see this:

A woman with short light brown hair, her eyes closed with a warm smile embedded on her lips, holding a small weaved basket as she went along her way on the side walk.

Kasumi Aono.

* * *

**BOOM**

**Plot twist.**

**Well, there you have it, second chapter, sorry it took so long to update. **

_**NEWS:**_** there will be a poll after the next chapter, just a little forewarning, and if you can, please answer.**

***: This is going of the beginning of season 2, just to clear that up as well, so Tsukune is only 17.******: Translation: (be prepared for the reaper of nations, Mikogami Tenmei. He comes for you tonight.)**

**Gavenga323 signing off.**


	3. Black tears

**Hey there everybody thanks for your reviews on the second chapter! (Sorry it took so long)**

_**WARNING**_**: I've decided to cancel the poll last minute. Instead I would like you to put your opinion in your reviews; I will place the options at the end of this chapter.**

**PLEASE**

**PLEASE**

_**PLEASE**_** make sure to place your answer into your review.**

**Alright, here comes the third chapter. **

**BE FOREWARNED, IT IS MY ****LONGEST CHAPTER YET.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rosario + Vampire, only the characters of my own imagination.**

* * *

**Black Tears**

* * *

Moka stared.

…

…

A bandaged and bruised Tsukune stared back.

…

She had no recollection of the day before, only that she woke up in her dorm room, and was quite surprised to find a rather large nail rammed into the wall next to the door, with a chain tightly wrapping both the nail and the doorknob together.

Upon questioning her other self at this phenomenon, Inner Moka's reply was to start muttering and growling about teenagers and hormones.

Whatever that meant, her innocent mindscape had no idea.

Not only that, but for almost the entire school day, she didn't see hide nor hair of Tsukune, not even in homeroom. (He sat in the opposite back corner FYI)

That, however, didn't stop them from both coming to newspaper club, and upon seeing Tsukune's less than healthy appearance, she had almost lost her composure at the state of his body.

_Yoooouuuuu… _she snarled at her other self, her youki spiking to large amounts, catching the attention of everyone present and attracting quite the flinch from Tsukune.

_You better start explaining why Tsukune is hurt so badly, _she continued, ignoring the stares of her comrades at her… less than pleased face.

_**H-Hey now,**_ Inner Moka protested with a stutter. For some odd reason, she found herself somehow intimidated by her outer personality. _**What happened yesterday was all his fault, he was the one to touch me so intimately thus-**_

_Wait what!? What does that mean!?_

_**Weeeellllllll...**_

* * *

Tsukune looked up from his work as Moka's youki suddenly faded, and wasn't all that surprised to see her staring down at her own work, her face a cute strawberry red.

_Inner Moka probably just told her about what happened yesterday. God that was stupid, moral of the story, __**don't listen to the voices in your head. At all…**_

He painfully brought his arm and propped it on the table, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. There he remained, oblivious to the entire world as his contemplation became dominant in his list of activities.

Yesterday, he had been to only two places. The infirmary, because Inner Moka's punches had left him hurting like hell, and lastly, his dorm room, where upon arriving he immediately stepped over to the wall and started banging his head on it, cursing his stupidity for listening to random voices in his head.

That night, he stayed up until one o'clock, sitting on the bed in meditation wondering what the **hell** caused those rogue thoughts to enter his mind, eventually falling over onto the pillow from fatigue, praying that Inner Moka wouldn't be taking Outer Moka's place just so she could kick his ass more for ruining her pride.

Thus he was quite relieved to see pink hair instead of silver that day, but that still didn't stop him from keeping as far away as humanly possible, all the while trying to roost out those thoughts that seemed bent of self destruction.

_The last thing I need is for that scenario to happen again, and what if it's Outer Moka this time? Then I could kiss our friendship goodbye. _

He released a sigh through his nostrils. That voice had been right about one thing though, and that was the fact that he definitely wanted to be more than 'just friends.'

A wave of sadness tore through his body, causing him to stare down at his work and blink, tears swelling up on the brim of his eyelashes.

Why cry now?

Was it because of the all too painful fact that he himself had pointed out a second ago? That they were just friends? Was it because of the pain still coursing through his body? Or the fact that he held the worst luck of a human in the world? How about the fact that, compared to all his friends, he was utterly useless? No matter what reason he looked for, they only seemed to add to the sudden depression.

That depression soon however, changed into something else.

Anger.

An indescribable amount of fury seemed to smash into his chest, crushing and grinding his spirit, his soul.

His swiftly changing mood and feelings seemed far from done however, as he felt a sudden stab, no, not a stab, nor a throb, a **gunshot** of a headache tear across his mind, almost causing him to scream in agony at the pain.

Almost.

It was only the strongest of wills that kept him upright in his seat. Ever so slowly however, he felt himself falling under the barbaric spell put on his mindscape.

* * *

All conversation at the table stopped almost immediately as a commotion caught the attention of everyone present. That commotion being Tsukune, who sat rigid in his seat clutching his forehead, trembling at an extreme rate, beads of sweat falling down his face in an alarming amount. While everyone stared at him with looks of curiosity and fear, Moka's was a look of righteous wrath. In her mind, there was only one explanation for Tsukune's behavior.

_WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO!?_ She mentally lashed out at her other self, causing said personality to mentally flinch at the sentence that dripped with anger and hate. _I swear to GOD, if you gave Tsukune a brain injury I will become very, __VERY,__ hard to live with._

_**Hey, calm down! **_Inner Moka struck back at her outer self, who had gotten up from her seat and rushed over to the young man with worry and fear plastered all over her face. _**I didn't hit him that hard and I never once hit above his cheek.**_

_YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE HIT HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE!_

* * *

The figure rushed down the path to the academy. He needed to find Mikogami, and he needed to find him **NOW**. Traversing through the school grounds and buildings in record time, he soon found himself face to face with the doors to the headmaster's office, which he pushed open without breaking stride.

"Sir, have you-" he began, only to pause in his questioning as a loud 'THUD' breached his sentence. Looking over, he was surprised to see an old fashioned quill embedded into the door he had not pushed open.

"Ah, Minamoto! My favorite agent! Sorry about that, I was expecting… someone else. Come in." spoke the headmaster, his face grinning sheepishly down at a set of documents on his desk, hand still outstretched from flinging the petite missile.

"Sir," Minamoto continued, striding hastily up to the gargantuan desk, "have you had a look at the news lately?"

"No," Tenmei replied, looking up from his papers with a curious frown, "why?"

"Sir, today in the city, a group of orcs assaulted a woman at the market place near Han'ei Inn. She's now in the hospital with major cuts and bruises with only a forty-six percent chance of survival." All light died in Minamoto's eyes as he droned off the details with little to no emotion, worlds away compared to the near frenzied state he had represented earlier.

A soft squeak broke the silence of the room. The headmaster, turning his chair around to face the window, laced his fingers together, staring at the now setting sun.

"Were these orcs, by any chance, students of the school?" he questioned, punctuating his sentence by placing his entwined hands underneath his nose with an interrogative 'hmm'. Behind him, Minamoto blinked in shock, as if a spell had been lifted off of him, his eyes returning to the frantic stare they had before.

"Well, no sir, but-"

"Then I fail to see how this situation could concern the school."

"Sir!" Minamoto persisted, "it's not about the orcs it's about the victim they assaulted! DNA scans show her to be related to one of your students here."

This caught Tenmei's attention, as he immediately turned to the agent with a silent 'who' adorning his lips.

"That human, Tsukune Aono." Minamoto continued, or at least tried to. He hadn't said as much as the words 'that human', before Mikogami pulled out a slip of paper from a nearby drawer, scribbling on it a flurry of hurried hand writing before handing it to the man.

"Go find Ruby, she should be in her room down the hall to the right, last room," he rattled off, looking the man dead square in the eyes with a look that showed not an ounce of his usual mischief, "If not there, check down by the front gate. Hand that slip to her. Then I want you to go find the bus driver, he should be getting back from his cigar run in roughly five minutes. Now, move fast, don't stop for anything."

"Sir!" Minamoto bowed, before dashing out of the room at a monstrous speed rate. Behind him, Mikogami sat with elbows propped onto the table, his chin resting on his once again entwined hands as he stared at the mess of papers that was his desk. Looking up, he noticed that his quill was still stuck in the door that had remained closed.

He needed to improve his aim.

* * *

The Reaper of Nations wasn't angry.

Neither was he sad.

…

…

He was downright livid and distraught.

Staring at the hospital, he stood there for a good thirty seconds, searching for an open window from which he could enter. After finding an entrance to the human infested building near the top floor, he rose to up to the opening, choosing to rather crawl than fly, leaving deep gouges in the brick wall to vent his ever growing fury.

Crawling into the window, a black tear coursed down his cheek.

_Why? Why me? Dear God do I really deserve Hell that much? That __**God damn**__ much!?_ Thinking back on it, he could see the terrible, horrifying events, all of them, as clear as day.

* * *

_Flashback:_

_He stared._

_He stared at the blood._

_He stared at the crowd, in which people also looked on in a similar state of shock._

_He stared at the ambulance, sitting not 20 feet from the scene as paramedics loaded up her body._

_Kasumi's body._

_With an urgent haste, the humans closed the door, speeding away towards Kasumi's only hope of survival._

_Several seconds after the vehicle left, he blinked in shock._

_With a shaking leg, he took a faltering step in the direction the ambulance had left in, soon followed by another, and another, until he found himself almost sprinting after the ambulance._

_He cared not for the cars that drove past him, the drivers oblivious to all, save their own little world. He cared not for the murderers, a pair of orcs who flitted between the crowds on the street._

_The only thing he cared for now was to see Kasumi live on. He would have to play God for that though. The wounds on Kasumi's body were deep, very deep, and were aimed at the most vital areas and several arteries._

_She only has, at most, a fifty percent chance, and even that is tempting fate._

_His eyes visibly darkened, as tears, as dark as oil, built up on his eyelids._

_Damn it! I was so close to Kasumi! No, it is not going to end there. I am going to reunite with her, and there is no way in hell I'm going to let her die. I'll be damned to rot on a pike before anything gets in my-_

_That thought paused however, as he noticed a familiar man heading towards the scene of the crime, curiosity evident on his face._

_How was he familiar?_

_Once more, the image of Mikogami flashed across his mind, stooping over him to place that accursed seal on his forehead. This time however, the image was supported by a background. _

_A ring of people surrounding the two of them, each wearing the exact same attire as the accursed headmaster, the only exception being that their faces were all visible._

_It was in that ring that he saw the man's face._

_It was Minamoto, one of Tenmei's agents._

_His trajectory changed, angling himself for a head on collision with the agent._

"_Excuse me," he called out to Minamoto, who turned to face him in response. Lifting up a finger, he placed it on the surprised man's forehead._

_Closing his eyes, he felt a cold prick at the base of his skull that soon turned into a heavy throb. Opening his eyes at this new sensation, he found himself now standing in a library, cold, dull, and lifeless._

_Minamoto's mindscape._

_Open… cerebrum, memory file, __he called out hesitantly. The task was simple, alter Minamoto's memories and change his objectives. This type of work was dangerous though, as one slip up could destroy every ounce of sanity the patient/victim retained. In all honesty though, he didn't give a high flying damn about the low human's sanity, he just wanted to make sure his message was transmitted loud and clearly._

_After putting up a false memory in the mortal's files he then proceeded into the second half of his plan._

_Set new directive, __he continued, __relay events of memory file 5V74386 to Minamoto, Tenmei. Objective's value: absolute. Target's understanding of message: imperative, use any private memories if necessary. _

_A low thrum resounded through the imaginary library as Minamoto's schedule adjusted to the new objective thrust into its midst._

_Set secondary directive, __he, again, continued, __rela-_

_HHHOOOONNNNKKKKKK!_

_He jumped back from the man as the sound disrupted the communication, the source being a semi truck that barreled past him on the street._

_Looking at the retreating vehicle, a low growl built itself up in his throat._

_DAMN HUMANS AND THEIR NOISY CONTRAPTIONS!__ He roared silently, his gaze still locked on the truck. What is it with these creatures and their love of noise? They're beyond intolerable, their annoying as hell!_

"_Now then," he muttered to himself, turning to face Minamoto once again._

_Wait._

_Where is he?_

_He looked back and forth searching for at least a tiny glimpse of the man, but after several seconds, he still hadn't seen hide nor hair of him._

_Minamoto was gone._

_End flashback._

* * *

A yell of pain escaped his throat. He had remembered the whole damn scene to such an exact detail, that it caused one hell of a headache to just think back on it.

He stood in the room for several seconds, painfully clutching his forehead in one hand. It was only a sudden thought that moved him to pick up his feet and keep going.

_I_

_Must_

_Find_

_Her._

* * *

Down at the hospital's entrance, a lone figure growled out in frustration at the building, earning him several stares from the many pedestrians passing by. Not that he wasn't already, his attire itself was already receiving a number of questionable glances, said clothing being a set of white robes on which had been placed multiple ornate crosses.

An exorcist.

His orders had originally been to search every nook and cranny of Japan for one of his missing brethren, captured by orcs. After several days of futile effort, he was only twenty-one hours away from leaving when he had spotted the demon, running on as if his very spirit was about to be devoured. In an exorcist's line of work, passing up such a rare opportunity to destroy a creature and improve one's self image was considered stupid, even to the dumbest one alive.

Thus he had found himself chasing the dark being for almost four miles, the result of the chase being him in the position he was now, staring at the white windowed monolith.

_What on earth does the demon want with the hospital? _He mused, his impassive eyes burning holes into the building. Whatever the reason was, it must never leave the building.

…

…

In one piece that is.

…

_Yes,_ he continued, entering through the hospital's doors, _the demon must die; I must be the one to slay it,_

…

_No matter the cost._

* * *

Not thirty seconds had passed by before an old yellow school bus had pulled up in front of the hospital. The doors barely opened before a disheveled and worried Tsukune squeezed through, sprinting for the front door at full speed, an equally worried Ruby hot on his tail.

Looking up, he winced as the building seemed to leer down at him, mocking him for his situation. A situation he hoped, no, prayed, was just a nightmare at most.

_No, _he thought, power walking along side Ruby up to the front desk, _this must be a dream. There is no way in hell that something this bad could have happened._

"May I help you?" the woman behind the counter asked with a smile, earning a wince from the young man.

_How can people be so __fucking_ _cheerful?_

"Is there a Kasumi Aono here?" he asked hesitantly.

_Please… please say no… _

The woman lost all emotion at the question.

"Hinata-san," she called out, moving from behind the counter to head down a hallway, "take over the counter, I'm taking this man to see the assault victim."

Behind her, Tsukune nearly collapsed, were it not for the fact that Ruby barely caught him.

_No… no… no no no __no no NO NO! _ he thought, rushing away from Ruby's grasp to follow the woman, tears swelling up on the brims of his eyes.

_Please, _he thought,_ I don't care who answers, just please… let this be a dream… please let it be a dream, __JUST LET IT BE A DREAM DAMN IT!_

"This is the room," the nurse spoke to Tsukune, or at least tried to.

The young man remained where he stood, his feet planted shoulder width apart as he stared at the door. Slowly, he brought up a shaky hand to the door knob.

_This isn't happening, _he told himself yet again, a strategy he had taken to using as he made his way through the hospital. _This is all a dream, yes. I'm going to wake up back at the academy, I'm going to call mom, and she'll answer saying she's just fine… just fine._

His hand hesitated just a centimeter from the handle, until slowly, ever so slowly, it moved up to the middle of the door, where his knuckle met the hard wood.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

On the third knock he remained there, frozen, like a statue, and there… he waited.

And waited.

Finally, after several seconds of silence, a breath of relief escaped his lips as he turned to leave the way he had came.

"Come in."

The voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

The voice was familiar.

…

…

All too familiar.

Flying back towards the door, his hand twisted the doorknob and pushed forward, launching the door open as he finally caught sight of the bed's occupant.

…

…

Kasumi Aono.

"Tsukune," she spoke with a smile, which soon dropped at his face of dismay, "are you okay? Have you eaten?" she finished with an honest motherly question.

At the state of his mother, a pained cry escaped Tsukune's throat, after which he found himself right beside her in less than a second, sobbing in agony.

"Tsukune," She called out once again, lifting a bandaged arm to place it on his forehead. "Now, now, don't cry."

Tsukune lifted his face to stare at the arm. It had been beaten and slashed multiple times. Looking over at the heart monitor, his heart sank even further at the information it posted.

Her heart beat was getting fainter.

Wrenching his eyes away from the machine, he looked back at the woman who loved and raised him. It wasn't fair, not one damn bit.

"Tsukune," she called out a third time, earning no response from the young man, who had then taken to staring out the window, "Tsukune listen to me." He turned his head to face her, tears still streaming down his face.

"There is something I need to tell you." She pressed on, painfully sitting up. "It's about your father."

Tsukune, who had once again taken to looking at the heart monitor, looked down at his wounded mother with shock and confusion evident on his face.

"What? Mother! Don't waste your strength talking about a man whose not even alive!" he almost screamed, reaching for extra bandages, seeing that her wounds had reopened.

…

"Tsukune, he's not dead."

The words stopped him cold in his tracks. Looking over, he spotted uneasiness and guilt in her eyes.

"You… lied to me?" he questioned, "You lied to me about my own dad?" Kasumi nodded.

"What else have you lied to me about? Is his name even _Ben Hanley_?" he finished, anger and betrayal dominating his features.

"Yes, Tsukune, his name was Ben, and you must believe me when I say that he is a good man," Kasumi responded, and was going to continue her criticizing when a cough escaped her throat, blood flecking her lips.

"My time is short, so Tsukune, please listen," she pleaded, "I have done all I could for you, raised you into the young gentleman you are now. The only people who can help you now are your friends and father, who is alive."

Tsukune raised his head in an epiphany.

"Um, mom," he spoke up with guilt. It was time to come clean about his friends.

"About my friends…"

"They're good kids Tsukune, you're lucky that they're there for you, but this is more important. Go back to school and continue with your classes until gradua-"

"WHAT!" Tsukune exclaimed, "You want me to continue as if you're not dying!? To act like this didn't even happen!?"

"Tsukune," Kasumi spoke sternly, "that is an order. I love you, I really do, but the best option for you now is to graduate so you can earn more opportunities for the future."

…

…

A soft 'thok' resonated throughout the room, the cause being Tsukune, who plopped his chin down onto the mattress to stare at his mother, tears flooding down his face.

"It's not fair," he murmured.

"Life isn't fair, but I want you to know that I love you. Now go my child," she said, reaching up a hand to stroke his cheek, now stained and salty.

…

"Live well."

* * *

Ruby raised her head in surprise as the door opened once again to reveal an extremely disheveled Tsukune, his face downcast and shoulders sagging as he began walking away.

Instead of following immediately after him, she chose to wait silently before following him from a respectful distance. She had barely caught a glimpse of his eyes, but she did see enough to know that they were dull and lifeless.

The Tsukune that she knew was gone, and she doubted that she would ever see him again.

* * *

Back in the room, the lights flickered in and out, bathing the room in a short darkness before brightening again, revealing a figure covered in bandages and black clothing, with feathery wings folded behind him. Quietly as possible, he made his way to the edge of the bed. His last step however, was just loud enough to catch the attention of Kasumi, who smiled warmly at the newcomer.

"Have you eaten?" she asked innocently, the response being a pair of lips pressing against her forehead.

"Please," Ben spoke, "don't worry about me." He looked in the direction of the door. "That was Tsukune? He looks like me."

"Except for the fact that your natural skin color is ebony." Kasumi smiled.

The two of them enjoyed each other's presence for a while

"…You know," Ben spoke hesitantly, "I could heal you, we could achieve our old dream, have a normal family."

"That wouldn't be right," Kasumi refused, "I have done all I could for our son, so while my time is up, I am content. The rest is up to you."

Ben looked down at her, words forming on his lips hesitantly.

"I think…" he began, "that one of Tsukune's friends is a vampire."

"None of Tsukune's friends are human."

That news shocked Ben.

"How!?"

"He's going to Youkai Academy."

"What!?" Ben yelled, turning to face her with disbelief, "You're letting him go to that _Monster's_ school? Why?"

"Because it is the only school that will take him, and I thought it best that Tsukune learn to live with these things so he can be prepared later on in life." Kasumi stated wisely, earning a stubborn huff from Ben, who then looked down at her wounds.

Several slashes adorned her arms, while a fine layer of bandages covered her chest, red blotches betraying the positions of even more cuts. All of which were fatal.

_My son was right,_ he thought, as for the third time since his return, tears, black as his skin, swelled on his eyelashes; _it's not fair at all._

…

…

…

"I love you Ben."

…

Slowly, ever so slowly, the heart monitor's beeps started to decrease, slower and slower, until a long and unending beep filled the room.

…

…

…

Kasumi Aono was no more.

…

Ben found he could no longer hold the tears back as they flooded down his face to fall on the mattress like black rain. Reaching a shaky hand up, he brought it up to her face to cup her cheek.

"Rest now," he sobbed, "my dearest angel."

Sinking to his knees, he let his head back to produce a mournful wail, a wail that frightened every creature within 40 feet of the room.

There he remained, wailing in agony over his dreadful loss.

Finally, his need for oxygen caught up with him. Gasping for precious air, he took to looking around the room as if searching for an escape. That's when he caught a glimmer, the source lying on a tray in the corner. Curiosity somehow managed to get the better of him, and walking up to the tray, he looked down in shock to see a ring, silver in color, with a wide array of diamonds placed evenly around the outside.

It was the ring he proposed to her with.

Clutching the priceless item in one hand, he brought his fist up to his mouth, his eyes churning out fresh tears.

_Who… who could have done this to me? _He lamented silently, _has Kasumi ever done a thing wrong? To anybody? WHO?_

He found his answer lying not three inches from the rings old position. A bloody, yet shining piece of metal. A blade tip that broke off during the gruesome act.

His fingers snatched the bloody fragment and brought it up to his eye level, where he stared intently at the shard in an effort to classify it.

_Gold!? _He suddenly realized, _Why gold? Gold is one of the worst choices for weapons, even an __orc__ wouldn't use a golden-_

His eyes widened considerably at a sudden revelation.

A golden dagger.

Orc attackers.

…

Goldfang.

…

"Goldfang ordered the attack," he said, speaking to no one in particular. His eyes suddenly seemed to morph, his red pupils expanding to overtake his gold irises until his eyes were nothing more than orbs of red against white, his eyelids twitching all the while.

"Goldfang… is dead." He finished with a snarl. His mind seemed stuck on repeat, the word 'revenge' appearing over and over in his mindscape.

_Yes,_ he thought, whirling about to face Kasumi's body, _revenge is a must. Goldfang must die. Every orc, must die. This I swear to you Kasumi. _

Walking up to her body, he bent down for one last kiss.

"So, this was your plan," Ben halted at the voice, "to feast on the dead and dying? You demons sicken me."

Whirling to face the door, the enraged demon saw the only creature he hated more than the mongrels that killed Kasumi.

An exorcist, one of those fucking bastards. Good.

…

Something to kill.

…

* * *

"Say your prayers demon," he spat, taking a step into the room, pulling a short sword from within his robes.

"You will be looking at hell once again before you…" he blinked in shock as the dark creature seemed to evaporate before his eyes, "know it?"

Before he could say anything else, the demon formed not five feet in front of him. His right wing seemed to disintegrate, the black feathers melting away to reveal a wickedly sharp scythe blade in place of the bone, which he quickly drove into the exorcist's abdomen.

After staring at the fatal wound in shock for a moment, the exorcist looked into Ben's red eyes to utter his last words.

"Y-you… you killed me."

"YOU WERE DEAD FROM THE START WORM!" Ben roared.

* * *

The window exploded as the exorcist's body, now shredded and mutilated, fell down to hit the pavement below.

Ben's form crawled into the window frame, where he remained, crouching while staring westward into the now setting sun.

_I,_ he began thinking, _was once called the Reaper of Nations, the Bloody King, the Man in the Moon. And I swear that by midnight tomorrow, I shall be singing over Goldfang's rotting corpse. This I swear. _He looked up to see the glowing sentinel's taking their place in the sky. Slowly, he brought both his arms and wings up to the sky as if to grasp it.

"_THIS"_

"_I"_

"_SWEAR"_

"_BY"_

"_THE"_

"_STARS!"_

* * *

I feel that I may have developed things a little too fast in this latest chapter, but I hope you are still interested in this story.

Yes, I killed Kasumi, and I feel like a freaking douchebag for doing that, but it is important for later on in the story.

WARNING, POLL HAS BEEN CANCELLED; for those who don't know, I intended to set up a poll for the fans, due to the fact that the fourth chapter could become _EXTREMELY_ violent, said poll was meant to see if they're okay with that or not, because there is a scene at Gundistry inc. that is also important to the plot, thus I have the options here:

A. Slaughter the green skin bastards all the way to the scene(extreme violence, not for faint of heart)

B. Go over important scene in flashback. (no violence, but that will not stop violence in later chapters.)

PLEASE

PLEASE

PLEASE PUT YOUR OPINION IN YOUR REVIEW.

Thank you for reading.

Gavenga323 signing off.


	4. The Harvest Moon

**Hello again to all readers, this is the fourth chapter.**

**Sorry, but it looks like I was extremely far off about the update time.**

**Also:**

**I just got to say, I love you readers! This is truly the perfect crowd for violence. That's right the winner is:**

**CHOICE A! Go have fun Ben! This chapter will be entirely his POV, just so you know…**

**FAIR WARNING: EXTREME VIOLENCE AND GORE! PROCEED WITH CAUTION!**

**Now, let the show/slaughter begin.**

* * *

**The Harvest Moon.**

* * *

A demon never reveals his true form. Not to God, not to the Devil, not to anyone. For a demon to show another being his true form isn't to just show them his true self, it is for them to look at his very soul, and being. Thus the unspoken rule was installed that no demon must ever show his true form.

…

But that doesn't stop them from having exceptions.

There are three exceptions to the rule. One, if the demon is with those he loves; friends, family, etc. Two, when they are around humans, as demons emit a soft aura around him that muddles a human's sight, screwing it up so the mortal won't notice any abnormalities the demon carries.

Three.

…

When at war.

…

Because when at war, they take no prisoners.

So it would only make sense for Ben to be stalking down the streets, his true form open to the entire world as he made his way to the monolith called Gundistry Inc. now shining in the setting sun.

Now, one could ask: even if they don't notice the eyes or wings, wouldn't they at least take notice of his flesh's appearance? The truth is…

Purple hair.

Black skin.

…

This wasn't his true form. No, it wasn't his true form at all. That was a disguise, made to fool the unwanted follower or assassin.

His true form still retained the eyes… somewhat. They still had the golden irises, cold and heartless, clashing with the blood red pupils. This time though, the whites were gone, replaced by an empty black, adding an even more increased haunting pierce to his gaze. His hair seemed to almost double in length, overtaking his neck. His hair was no longer purple either, but white, a blinding white, with his skin having the same effect, resting on an extreme pale instead of black.

_This _was his true form, and even then only somewhat. He decided to only show it halfway in case of survivors.

_Not that there will be any… _he corrected with his devil grin, as the entrance soon came in sight, the guards standing erect and sure, as if feeling the world won't challenge them.

…

_Too bad I'm not the world._

* * *

Inside the building, two orc guards readied themselves to relieve the ones outside, when a realization dawned on one of them.

"Hey Aguri-san," he spoke to the other, Aguri's response being to look up at him, raising his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

"Those two outside, aren't they working for the chief's brother in England?"

"Yeah." Aguri confirmed, clicking a bullet proof vest around his chest.

"The chief's brother sent them and a few other guards here as repay of a small favor. Their names are Jack and Robert I believe…" he finished with uncertainty, before squinting back at him.

"Why do you want to know, Ikuko-kun?"

"Well…" Ikuko began, looking down to study his pistol, "I just have a bad feeling about them is all."

"Don't be ridiculous, that shit only happens in those humans' movi-"

The doors erupted, throwing back several orcs from the entrance, now a gap billowing smoke.

As the remaining orcs uncovered their faces to stare at the hole, a figure slowly crawled through on its arms and legs. Realization and fear dawned on Ikuko's face.

The figure was missing an arm, and the figure was Jack.

"Jack," he called out in English, rushing up to his wounded comrade's side, "w-w-what happened to your arm? Where's Robert?"

Jack attempted to look up at him, but could only look up half way before shuddering and looking back down to the ground. It was then that Ikuko noticed Jack's throat.

It was swollen, _EXTREMELY_ swollen, so swollen, it looked like his throat might burst, and his jaw was unhinged to boot.

"_A-ARE YOU CHOKING_!?" Ikuko screamed, grabbing him by his shoulders to flip him over, trying to discern what had been shoved down Jack's gullet. It only took three seconds before he reeled away in a mix of shock, fear, and disgust.

…

…

It was his arm.

…

Jack was choking on his own arm.

"He's choking on his ARM!" Ikuko screamed at the remaining orcs, causing several to blanch in shock while Aguri and three others rushed in to help. The five remained there, struggling to save their English ally's life.

"Almost… there…" Aguri growled as the arm came slowly sliding out of Jack's mouth, who had by this point, gone a deep purple. The arm was almost free when it seemed to get caught on something, frustrating the rescue group while making them struggle even more. Finally, after a few more seconds of struggling, they gave Jack the right to oxygen as the arm came loose with a soft clink.

…

Clink?

Looking at Jack's hand, they saw his fist curled tightly around…

A grenade.

The group quickly moved their gaze to Jack's mouth to see the pin, attached to a string leading down his throat.

_Fuck._

The grenade erupted, killing the six unfortunate orcs, while those who could, took cover to shield themselves from the blast. Slowly, the surviving orcs got back up to look at the crater, surrounded by gore and body parts. Several of them cursed and rushed to warn Chief Goldfang of the terrorist act.

"Hm-hm-hm-hm…" The sound of a chuckle, sick and twisted, caused those few to stop in their objective. Turning back, they all saw a lone figure standing in the doorway, his shoulders shaking with dark amusement.

The sound of laughing was drowned out in noise as every one of the green skins in disguise drew a hidden weapon. After a small standoff that lasted several seconds, one of the orcs, the desk clerk, strode up to the halfway point between the two parties, a small revolver in his hands.

"Who the fuck are you?" he questioned, pointing the gun at the strange newcomer.

"ANGELUS-"

* * *

"MORTIS!" Ben roared, before sinking into the ground as if made of water, causing the orcs to all cry out in shock at this trick. In a couple of seconds they found themselves forming a tight circle in the middle of the room. It was not a bad plan, usually, one can find safety in numbers, and it is a good plan to be back to back, with eyes covering all directions.

But that sort of plan is for multiple mortals.

…

Demons don't count.

…

Two scythes, Ben's wings, came rocketing up from the floor to stab through two orcs in the center, before flinging them off. The blades then proceeded to cut down the remaining members, swinging about independently as if they had their own ideas.

As the bodies collapsed onto the ground, the demon slowly rose up from the floor. Looking over, he noticed a door; a sign with the words "basement entry" overhead. He found himself torn on what to do. It was obvious that Goldfang was in the basement, but why stop the fun so quickly when there are nine more floors full of green skins? Thus the dilemma of choosing; kill him now, or destroy the legacy.

He made his choice by barricading the only entrance to the basement with every corpse and piece of furniture on the floor level, before turning to the staircase that led upwards.

_Goldfang can wait, it's not like his death will be slow anyways._

* * *

After traversing the stairs to the second floor, he made his entrance by kicking down the door, shocking every living thing on that level.

Silently he stood there, taking in the image of fear and alarm on all the creatures' faces with a psychopathic smile, at the same time flexing his ring and pinky finger on each hand. The flesh around his fifth metacarpus on each hand exploded, revealing the bones to be short blades, which promptly grew until each one was the size of a dagger. Looking down at his hands, he studied the pattern of his blood, before looking back up to stare at the orcs, to which he whispered three words.

"Tax collector's here."

Jumping to the nearest orc, he plunged his odd blades into the surprised creature's chest, ending its life there and then. He then noticed an armed guard to his left, closing in on him with a police baton. Slashing his right blade through the dead orc's side, Ben whirled his body around to slice his arm into the other's face, severing his head in two.

His left blade still stuck in the first corpse, he raised it above his head to fling it at one of the closer targets that rushed at him with a pencil in his left hand, and the poor green skin was knocked back from the force, his hand twisting to stab the pencil through his own abdomen.

Whirling around, Ben found himself face to face with a hulking individual, an orc who had converted to his true form. This meant nothing to the demon, as his scythe wings came up above his shoulders to stab down the orcs throat, before twisting around to fling him through the door to the stair well, where it's body could be heard crashing down the stairs while Ben slaughtered the rest without mercy.

Ben turned around, laughing at the warm, sensational feeling of foreign blood on his hands, but his laughter died at a sudden, noticeable predicament. The last of the green skin bastards had managed to stick his scissors through his gut, where he proceeded to twist and turn it.

_What a fool._

Gripping him by the shoulders, he gave the survivor his genuine Devil's grin, but this time, his teeth had changed. Instead of normal human's teeth, they had been replaced with a row of predatory animal teeth.

_I won't kill this one, _he decided, as his wings suddenly shrank into his back. Diving his hand into his pocket, he produced a silver revolver; it was the one the desk clerk had been carrying.

_I have better plans._

* * *

Up above on floor three, an orc unlocked and opened a cage door, revealing several automatic weapons and blades, which everyone grabbed with assurance before turning to face the door leading down stairs. This was the floor made specifically for guards after all, making everyone up there *gasp* a guard, so there was no way they could lose to any threat…

…

Right?

The door creaked open, revealing a figure covered in shadows, at which all ranged weapons sprayed gunfire. Finally, after several seconds, they all ceased, noting the pool of blood and shredded gore at its feet. Wow, looks like the job was done already…

Not.

Gunfire erupted from the figures shoulder, bursting the skulls of everyone with a gun. The figure then fell into the light, revealing it to be an orc, heavily mutilated and torn from bullets and shot, while a smirking Ben stood in the doorway, the gun in his hand still smoking.

"Thank you for your… cooperation." Ben said, tossing down the gun onto the dead green skin's body with a smirk that was then directed to the rest in the room.

"Blades, huh?" He asked, eyeing their sharp objects with a calculating stare. Finally after seconds of contemplation he rolled his head and shoulders before getting into an unarmed combat stance.

"_RIGHT THEN!" _he yelled sadistically in a mocking, evil tone, directed to everyone in the room, "_I'LL TAKE YOU ALL ON!"_

One of them took the bait and charged him head on, whirling a katana over his head like a club. Ben's response was to quickly hop onto his left foot, bringing his right foot up to crash into the orc's hip, shattering its pelvis while sending it flying out the window. A second one swung a short sword at him, which he quickly ducked under before bringing his fist into the mongrel's chin with enough force to lift it up off the ground, where it smashed its head into a light before falling back onto the ground.

One of the green skins made an attempt to sneak up on him with a combat knife; the poor creature received a whirling foot to the face that both shattered his skull and broke his neck at the same time. Ben smiled down at the broken figure, and then quickly ducked as a sword took the place where his head was previously. Spinning around to face the sneak, he reached out with his right arm to grab the man by his chin, lifting him up into the air with demented glee.

'_SLLLLICCCE!'_

Ben blinked in shock as a blade separated his arm and hand; he turned just in time to see the same blade swipe at his neck. The result was his head falling backwards, nearly severed by the attack. The blade user then spun on the spot to slam his sword through Ben's heart, effectively killing him then and there.

A good majority of the mongrels whooped and hollered at the victory, while the swordsman looked around the room, a smug look of pride on his features, his blade still in the demon's chest.

"_Heh-heh-heh-heh…" _the sound forced everyone to stop in their celebration, looks of fear and disbelief on their faces as they stared at each other. There was no way, it just wasn't possible…

"HA-HA-HA-HA!" they turned back to stare at the dead corpse, just in time to see the head snap back into its original position, revealing the face to be covered in blood, but also smiling with twisted joy. Raising his wounded arm, he lifted it high into the air for the entire world to see.

The next scene could only be described as a horror movie. Ben's forearm exploded in blood, flesh and tendons, all the way down to the elbow. That alone didn't scare the orcs. What scared the orcs was the fact that there wasn't an ounce of bone beneath; no radial, no ulna. In their place there rested five metal blades, in the pattern of fingers, with one shaped to resemble a thumb. The show wasn't done yet however, as the deadly digits actually curled and flexed like normal fingers. As if that wasn't enough, they then lengthened to the size of katanas. There his arm remained, bloody and horrible, until it came crashing down on the terrified orc, who remained standing for only a moment before the law of gravity caused his form to split apart like ribbons, causing him to resemble nothing but an opened gore bag on the floor.

Looking down at the mess, Ben's wings exploded from his back again, taking on their deadly scythe form while his left arm transformed into the same type of weapon as the right. The blood from the recent events splattered all over his face, coupling with the shadows to give him a red, expressionless mask, where the only thing visible was his black, gold, and red eyes, cursing him with a look that would frighten a god. His gaze unlocked itself from the pile to see all the green skins staring at his arms, back, and face, their faces either deathly pale or dark green. Two lost their latest meals then and there.

"Y-Y-You…" whispered one of them, the apparent leader by the looks of him. The green skin paused as he took in the blood and gore surrounding the monster.

"ARE YOU EVEN MORTAL!? DON'T YOU KNOW THE MEANING OF DEATH!?" he continued with a scream, "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST DIE!?"

"_I AM THE BANE OF DEATH'S EXISTENCE!_" Ben roared, his wings stretching while his blade hands clenched and strained as if trying to crush the air itself. All the orcs reeled back in fear and shock as the demon seemed to upgrade into a creature far beyond the Devil himself.

That step would be their last. Outside, the windows exploded, several bodies flying through the openings to splatter in the streets below. Inside several screams of agony resonated through the level to the outside world, where the sounds faded away into the night.

Ben looked up from the mutilated body at his feet to stare at the door to the stair well. Three down, seven to go. As he was walking towards the door however, he looked across the room to see a particular item of interest. The flesh on his left humerus started to regenerate, growing around his blade fingers to reform his forearm and hand. Stooping down with his healed limb, he picked a gun up off the floor.

"FN-SCAR, huh? Let's see," he mused, holding the rifle in his left hand while looking down the sights, "drum magazine… meh, iron sights… fine…"

"All in all, good condition," he finally decided flipping it in his left arm so that he caught a grip on the handle, "just perfect."

* * *

All the orcs on the fifth floor winced at the sound of gunfire below them. A few of them looked over towards the door, where a barricade had been hastily erected from the desks cubby walls, and chairs, resembling more of a pile than a barricade. Several cursed in anger, frustration, and fear. It just was not plausible, one creature taking on one of the richest and well equipped orc clans in the world, and apparently winning so far to boot.

As they sat there, waiting for the inevitable battle, a few had taken to sitting down, prepping themselves as they looked around the room for what would indeed be the last time.

"Hey, goblin," one of them gruffed. A small built man with blue eyes and green hair looked up at him in response. This was a goblin, a creature that was sent with the American guards here. It felt weird speaking to the creature, as all goblins are actually slaves to the orcs. Without an orc over their shoulder, the creature tends to be quite the pacifist. Thus it was a sort of taboo to speak to the creature. That didn't stop the orc from trying though.

"Y-Yes?" the goblin asked with a whisper. As the orc was about to continue, a loud thud stopped his sentence as he, the goblin, and everyone else looked over at the barricade. The noise was preceded by another, and another, causing several of the green skins to stand up and face the door, a mix of determination, resistance, and defeat in their eyes.

"What do you think our chances are of winning?" he finally finished, him and several others looking the goblin dead square in the eye. They were going to kill the damn- what-ever-the-hell-it-was, or die trying.

"W-Well…" the small creature began, as he revealed two hands, his hands, wearing fingerless gloves while holding a book. Opening to a certain page, he started chanting in an ancient tongue filled with magic, several glances of disdain being sent his way as a result. If there is one thing an orc hates in this world, it is magic, and goblins were right up there with witches for magic users.

A small image began to solidify in front of the goblin, on which sat many numbers and images. After studying the magic picture for a moment, the creature's heart sagged.

"Zero-point-three-seven-two percent." He droned out sadly, the sentence earning several curses and sighs from the others.

"Very well," the orc nodded before turning to the rest of the group, shouldering his weapon, "it will be this floor where we make our stand. Some of you don't like this plan, but for every person that fights, there is still a chance of survival, not just for you, but for Gundistry Inc. as a whole. Here we must fight; I know that we may not survive, but let's give the bastard a fight to remember."

He looked down at the floor.

"Do this for Sutaringurado."(1) Every creature looked up at him, shame and surprise on their faces. That was a name almost forgotten by the species, but it was still a symbol of pride and honor in all orcs. A name they mustn't disrespect.

A bang, louder than all the others, kept the orc from finishing his speech. Looking over, he saw the demon, standing in the doorway, an assault rifle in his left hand, and his right arm in the shape of five metal claws. Death had come.

* * *

Ben wasted no time in sprinting head first into the room, firing off the rifle all the while. The orcs rushed back in kind, ignoring all their comrades who fell around them.

…

It was an unfair fight before it even started. A third of the orc party had dropped dead before reaching him. As for the rest… for every ounce of damage they inflicted, for every small victory they had achieved, Ben simply regenerated and revived. Ben sensed something different with these ones though; there was a glimmer in their eyes, a glimmer that could frighten any creature, one that could force even a vampire to pause. What did that glimmer mean though?

He found his answer when he stabbed another of their number. Instead of falling to the ground, the orc staggered there for a moment, before a roar escaped his lips as he moved right back into Ben's face to continue the fight. Not one orc on that floor ever faltered. They fought on, even as they fell with their innards shredded, and their blood gushing. It was then that Ben understood the glimmer that shined in their eyes.

It was determination; the bloody minded refusal to fail.

For the first time, Ben held a grudging respect for the mongrels, shocked that any inhuman species could show such a trait, and that respect was held, even when the last orc collapsed onto the gore stained floor, his organs spilling out of his side.

That didn't make him the last living creature though…

Ben looked over to see a man, small in stature, trembling at the blood staining the floor, the bodies, and lastly, his face. A faint blue aura surrounded the man, noticeable to the demon only.

_A magic user, must be a goblin,_ Ben thought, taking a step towards the timid creature who remained in his spot, shivering at the sight. Would he even stand up to face his fate?

* * *

Realizing his time had come, the goblin nodded his head in acceptance, before doing an action that shocked the demon to his very core. He laid down his weapon, a ball-peen hammer grabbed from the closet, and got down on his knees, his head bowed forward as he waited for the agonizing pain to come. As he sat there, waiting for death, several recent events kept on repeating in his mind, until he had memorized the entire past year by heart. He was unwillingly sent with several others from Chief Goldfang's brother to guard the chief. Now though, with bodies surrounding him, and blood soaking his pants, he realized that the gift from the brother wouldn't help; it wouldn't have helped if twice the men had been shipped. They would all die anyways. So all he could do was wait, wait for the pain.

…

A pain that did not come.

Looking up, the goblin was shocked to see the demon's face not a foot away from his own. The creature's eyes bore into his soul, where he could feel its gaze judging his character and being. Finally, after several tense the seconds, the demon's mouth opened.

"Goblin…" it whispered, "Why don't you fight like your brethren? Brethren who died fighting with such a fierce determination?"

"I-I," he began, "I am not like them. I am just a slave."

"Does that mean that you don't hold your masters' beliefs?" the demon pressed.

"Yes," the timid creature replied with a less shaky will, "I would rather stay away from violence, monster."

"But," he continued, looking down at the bodies of his somewhat comrades, "I doubt that if I were to somehow survive, that I would ever be fully comfortable again, especially with the fact that one creature killed everything in a ten story building."

A dark chuckle escaped the demon's lips at this fact. His face became impassive right after though.

"Goblin," he spoke again, "what be your name?"

"R-R-Rick sir," Rick replied.

"Very well then Rick," Ben continued, "I will let you live, but under one condition."

Rick looked up at him with a dreaded curiosity, and then winced as a hand patted his shoulder.

"Leave. Don't let them find you, go live an honest peaceful life." Ben ordered with a sad smile. Standing upright, he moved back towards the stair doors.

Seconds after the demon left, Rick blinked in shock, as small gasp escaping his lips over that fact that he was even breathing. He didn't waste any time in going down the flight of stairs, pausing at the bottom to stare at an orc whose face and throat had been completely destroyed before running out into the open.

Before he could shout with joy though, two images popped up into his mind. Two men, the only ones to ever be nice to him.

…

Two men who were still in the building.

He doubted that they would ever live to see the light of the day.

* * *

The sixth floor wasn't crowded, but neither was it empty.

…

It was jam packed with every orc from the sixth floor up, all of whom had decided to come down to that specific floor, where the survivors could fight the demon as a whole group. As a result, the floor was extremely crowded with orcs, all looking towards the door, where the enemy was sure to come.

Most of them anyways.

At the back, a particular green skin blinked lazily at the staff in his hands, before looking up to stare at the rest of his kin. Unlike most, this one's body was properly proportioned, and had a face much more handsome than the others' grotesque features. Currently, the misfit orc was currently questioning sides in this situation, as he knew all about the recent job Gundistry Inc. had received. Unlike most, he was actually quite disgusted with the company's line of work, especially the latest job, but frankly, the demon's type of a response was overkill on three pounds of steroids.

_Okay, I get it, _he thought, lazily moving his gaze back to the staff, _killing a defenseless woman is one of the worst things a man could have done, but to slaughter an entire tower of inhuman species as a result… _

"Haaahh…." He sighed.

_I don't see, no, I can't even gauge who is being worse right now._

He deserved a vacation.

* * *

One can say what they will, but when they see a room over flowing with green skins, even Ben would blink in shock.

And that's exactly what Ben did, while dropping his gun to boot.

"Holy SHIT!" he exclaimed, catching the attention of all present. Just when he had thought it was smooth sailing from here on out…

The orc host swarmed towards the demon, each individual carrying a weapon. As Ben stared, the lead orc raised an old club over his head with both hands. In an instinctive manner, Ben brought his right hand up, the fingers open yet glued together, to the orcs chest before yelling out three words.

"ONE INCH PUNCH!" Ben's hand rocketed forward, curling into a fist to slam into the orc's body with enough force to send the entire horde back five feet.

Something must have been done wrong however, for Ben's face immediately morphed into one of shock and embarrassment.

"Whoops," he said sheepishly, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his head, "my bad."

The orc suddenly exploded.

Not into gore or flames, but a legitimate shock wave, twenty feet in radius, that severed the poor green skin, knocking back Ben and the unfortunate allies as well.

The little scene was not done however, as every living creature that happened to be inside the circle clutched various parts of their bodies while wailing in agony. Those who hadn't been inside the explosion cried in shock as their comrades started to disintegrate; first their skin melted, then the flesh seemed to erode off their bodies until a skeleton carrying organs and eyes was all that remained, then each skeleton burst into flame. It looked to be anything but a painless process.

One of the skeletons had slammed into a wall, sticking into it like a picture. Unlike the others however, this one regenerated his flesh and skin, until a worn-out Ben took its place.

Wrenching himself out of the wall, he saw that the rest of the orcs had recovered from their shock to charge at him once again, this time each one was in a much more closed stance to prevent what-ever-the-hell-that-was-again.

Ben rushed back in response, charging straight on before diving under the new lead orc's slice to bring his shoulder into the creature's gut. The force launched the orc and several behind him over the heads of their comrades, who barely had time to register the motion before Ben was upon them with his hands and wings.

* * *

Behind them, the misfit whistled at the pile of charred skeletons with apparent respect.

_That was a fine display of magic if I do say so myself, _He thought, straightening himself off the wall he had been leaning against, _it would seem that none of us would have a chance in this fight._

* * *

Ben tackled the last orc to the ground, straddling its chest before bringing his fingers up to rake his claws across his face again and again, until only a half of the green skin's head remained. Sitting back, he looked across the room and the layer of bodies, small pools of blood and gore forming between the dead creatures. The stairwell rang with the sounds of drops as blood flowed like a river down them. Looking over at said stairwell, Ben removed himself from the bodies to start staggering over to the door.

"Chief Goldfang isn't above you, demon."

The sentence stopped him dead in his tracks as he looked over to see an orc leaning on a staff, his body looking actually normal when compared to a normal orc's true form.

"I know," he stated blankly, staring dumbly at the staff in the misfit's hands, his acute sight noticing multiple runes engraved into the wood.

"And everyone that was up there, came down here to get slaughtered by you." The orc finished.

"Except you."

"Be that as it may," the green skin stated, standing up straight to walk over towards a window, "I have no intention of fighting you."

"I've already let one creature live to tell the tale, I don't want a repeat of that." Ben eyed him warily.

"Ah, so you let one live? It was most probably Rick, I always viewed him as a greater friend than my own kin…"

Ben suddenly blinked in shock.

…

There was an orc.

…

Alive.

…

In front of him.

…

…

Ben wasted no time in charging at the orc, moving at no less than eighty miles-per-hour. When he neared the creature though, something happened that he did not expect.

The runes on the orc's staff glowed a piercing blue, before the creature actually dissipated into a puff of smoke bearing the same color. Ben's eyebrows raised in surprise as he attempted to stop himself.

…

Alas, one will find it hard to do so at eighty miles-per-hour. Thus Ben found himself flying out the window towards the pavement below, where several black shapes could be seen. The bodies of the dead orcs, turned black by the darkness of nighttime, lay about, strewn and broken. In that moment, heading towards the concrete ground, Ben came to a realization.

_Goldfang is in the basement, _he thought, _I could use this to my advantage…_

* * *

In the basement, the cages had been shifted, their occupants still inside them, to form a pile that covered the door to the stairs. How had one creature managed to accomplish such a feat?

In truth, Goldfang was not alone down there, right before the demon had invaded, he had just so happened to be having a meeting with his best guards and soldiers. (Go figure)

These soldiers had formed a protective barrier in front of the chief, the middle row pointing a gun of large caliber towards the pile, the front line holding a row of melee weapons, and the back row holding melee weapons of increased range, ready to strike over the heads of the first two should the situation permit. Off in the corner, a lone orc had set up a type 99 LMG pointed right at the pile, ready to cut down any soul who breached it.

Behind the line of orcs, Goldfang held a smug look. Here he was, defended by his best soldiers. They had plenty of water, and as for food… they also had plenty of that, but not near enough compared to the water.

_But then again_, Goldfang thought looking at the pile of cages; mostly the ones holding the dead POWs, _food can easily be made up for, can't it._

All in all, this defense was worlds better than what most of the other floors had. There was almost no chance of the demon even breaching the doors.

There was just one problem with it though.

What if the attack came from above?

The orcs all cried in shock as the ceiling exploded downward, a lone body flying into the ground like a missile. The dust had yet to even spread out away from the crash before Ben emerged from the crater, his scythe wings waving in anticipation.

Seeing that the intrusion hadn't managed to kill ten of them, Ben realized his fun had yet to end as the survivors made the attempt to stand up.

He launched himself at the first orc to stand, bringing his wings up to ram up into the orcs abdomen, lifting it high into the air from the velocity of the attack before slamming it into the next one up. His hands, which had yet to take blade form, formed fists, one of which slammed into a downed green skin's head with enough force to burst the poor mongrel's skull, the other punching through a different one's stomach to get wiped in stomach acid.

Instead of ignoring the acid coating his arm, Ben did just the opposite. He whirled said arm around to fling some drops of the acid into an orc's eyes, the unfortunate creature clutching his eyes in agony before Ben spared him the extremely painful death. Two orcs grabbed him by his scythe wings to stop the whirlwinds of death. Ben's response was to sink into the ground like liquid, the two orcs following as a result of touching him. He emerged from the ground two seconds later; the orcs weren't with him.

Looking around, Ben's eyes rested upon a pitiful sight. Goldfang, discreetly crawling away from the crater towards the orc with the LMG, who had been knocked unconscious by a piece of debris.

_What a worm of a creature._ He thought.

Looking over, he saw that one of the dead orcs was still carrying their weapon.

A spear.

Not a normal spear, no. The shaft itself was made out of Lignum Vitae, which in itself is a very poor choice. But what really caught Ben's attention was the blade.

It was gold.

What a perfect tool for the game of irony.

Striding over to the weapon, the demon picked it up off the floor, quickly testing the point of the blade. Finding it to be satisfactory, Ben bounded over to the orc chief, his face morphed into the devil's grin as he quickly brought the blade back and forth across Golfang's back, forming multiple Xs before twirling the spear around to ram it down on the green skin chief's throat, cutting off his scream as well as severing his neck bones in two.

"CHIEF!"

Ben looked up to see the orc who had been planning to man the Type 99 had regained consciousness and was pointing said weapon in his general direction. Wasting no time, Ben ripped the spear out of the orc's throat, who gurgled in pain, before tossing it into the living green skin's chest with enough force to snap the shaft in half.

A steady calm fell upon the room, broken only by the sound of the mongrel collapsing and city crickets chirping from above the hole in the ceiling. Looking up to the sound, Ben saw that the moon was positioned directly over head. Tonight, chemicals used by farmers outside the city had drifted into the night sky, where they turned the moon into the color of rust, shining orange rays of light down into the basement. It was there that Ben remembered a promise. A promise that he must fulfill now, or all of tonight's work will be for naught.

…

It was a promise that shall be fulfilled, by him alone.

* * *

The orc who had been carrying the machine gun scrunched his eyes, wheezing in agony over the spear in his chest. It may have punched through him, but it still had not done the job of killing him then and there.

The orc's ears soon picked up a sound, the sound of someone speaking. No, not speaking, chanting. Due to the loss of blood however, he couldn't depict the speaker's words, but they seemed… happy, no, joyful.

The orc opened his eyes to see the body of his Chief, broken and lifeless, blood still pouring from his dead lips. The speaker was obviously not him. Moving his eyes over, the creature saw two feet, one planted on each side of the dead orc, both of which were splattered with gore.

Looking up, he saw the owner of the two feet. It was the demon, whose very eyes were as cold and heartless as the Devil himself, and it was from the demon's lips, that the chanting was originating from. Focusing all his efforts onto maintaining the condition of his hearing, the orc strained until the words rang out, as clear as day. It was before he could really focus on the words however, that the orc came to a frightening revelation.

The demon was **singing**.

And though the words were in a language he didn't understand, the mongrel felt they would haunt him for an eternity in the afterlife.

"IB RICHTEN MON ZEITSER BU ZEAL DU ORIBAN,"*

The demon roared, motioning up to the sky with one hand.

"MUR OMA DU GROOOOMMM BOOORRRE DAAAYYGA,"**

Looking up to the sky, the orc blinked in shock when he finally focused on the moon. The moon had a face. That face was grinning, a cold and heartless grin that held no respect for any creature that it shined down upon. A grin that the demon copied perfectly as he looked down on Goldfang's body, holding both arms up to motion the phenomenon.

"DU ARTZVEN GROOOOMM,"***

"ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNE DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYGA!"****

At that moment, the orc realized, with death quickly taking his soul, that the demon wasn't as bad as the Devil.

…

He was a thousand times worse.

* * *

As Ben made to leap up out of the hole, he felt two eyes bore holes into his back. Turning around, he saw the last thing he wished to see on the earth.

…

Another exorcist. This one in a cage.

Striding up to the cage, the two held a small standoff, staring each other down as they attempted to figure out each other's mindscape. After a few tense seconds, the exorcist broke the silence.

"I see…" he said uncertainly, "that you couldn't save her, your fiancée I mean."

Ben's response was to permeate through the bars, and then crouched down until he was eye level with the sworn enemy of his species. In another time, Ben would have killed the human without a second glance, but something stayed his hand this time.

"I killed one of your brothers…" the demon spoke mechanically, causing the exorcist to smile.

"I have no brothers, not anymore."

"How come, blessed one?" he asked in response, curiosity overriding his still lingering lust for blood.

"My brothers," the exorcist began, "were sent on a suicide mission into the realm you were banished to, cursed one."

That news shocked Ben enough for him to lose his balance.

"What?" he asked, looking for any sign of a bluff in the exorcist's eyes, "did they do something to anger your precious Pope?"

"Far from it," was the reply, "it would seem the Pope had enough confidence in their capabilities that he attempt to have them wipe out all demons completely. All who survived now currently wander around the realm in a corrupted state of frenzied bloodlust."

Ben sat back against the bars to look down into the gore-stained floor before looking back up at the exorcist.

"We're both endangered it seems…" he smiled jokingly.

"And this clan is officially extinct," the human retorted.

"Not all," Ben looked over at the dead orcs, "I let two go."

"Hmm… Most likely the goblin and the orkree."

"Orkree? Aren't those orcs who can use magic? I thought the orcs killed them all themselves."

"No," the exorcist shook his head, "that is the last survivor."

"Another endangered species?" the demon laughed, licking blood off his fingers to quench his blood lust, which had started to return at this point.

"who'd a thunk it, huh?"

The human sighed.

"Never thought that I would say this, but please forgive me demon."

"For wha- AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" Ben screamed as a ruby cross was placed directly on his face. Instead of being banished for a second time however, he simply awoke not ten seconds later with a killer of a headache.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!?" he screamed at the exorcist.

"That," the human replied, "was a cross designed to quench your bloodlust. Good thing it worked instead of blowing your head in half…"

"I hate you."

"Meh."

Several seconds of silence passed, until Ben broke it this time.

"Thanks." He muttered.

"No problem," the exorcist said cheerfully, "but in return, I would like to call a favor."

"I'm not gonna curl up and die for you."

"Please," the exorcist huffed, "I lost interest in that crap a long time ago. It's just a small favor."

"What?"

"Take me to the Academy."

"Huh!?"

"You heard me."

Another several seconds of silence passed before Ben finally gave in.

"I'm taking you to the infirmary though," he stated, lifting the human over his shoulders like a lamb before permeating through the bars a second time, "you look rather injured."

"Never thought that I'd hear a demon say that…"

"Tell me about it."

Ben leaped up through the hole before running off down the street, holding the human tightly to his shoulders.

Next stop.

Youkai Academy.

* * *

*whew* that took FOREVER, srry guys.

So yeah, chapter 4 is OUT, and here to stay.

(1)I will describe the meaning of that name further on in the story.

Translations:

The lines are from the song Dog Eats Dog in Les Miserables (no, I don't own it.)

*I raise my eyes to see the heavens.

**And only the moon looks down.

***The harvest moon.

****Shines down.

Next up:

Father, Meet Son. Son, Meet Father.

A disaster of a reunion? Find out next chapter.

Gavenga323 signing off.


End file.
